


yuri don't go home

by ravensandtypewriters



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensandtypewriters/pseuds/ravensandtypewriters
Summary: au where yuri comes back to train with yuuri and victor





	1. wait, you're staying?? aka yuuri you bitch

yuri knew it was over. he swiped the tears angrily away from his face as he strode away from the Hot Springs competition.

 

it couldn't be over.

 

victor had _promised._

 

promised and then left him behind for that moronic Japanese fatso.

 

yuri's steps slowed as he crossed the bridge. looking over the water, he saw the way victor had looked at yuuri, the way yuuri had danced for victor. it was not appreciation of talent, it was desire. they _desired_ each other and yuri didn't want to be a part of that, but he didn't want to lose to a stupid pig just because victor happened to like the taste of pork cutlet bowls.

 

clenching his teeth, he strode on. goodbye, japan.

"yurio!" he heard the emo girl yell. "are you going?!"

"what does it look like, idiot?" yuri snarled. he was dragging his case out of yu-topia, having left some of victor's money on the front desk to pay for his trip; victor had broken his promise, he might as well pay for yuri's trip.

"so you're going back to Russia? don't you want to be tutored by victor?" the emo girl babbled dumbfoundedly.

"what do you mean? yuuri won. so i'm going home." yuri turned his back and stepped out fom under the archway, the dramatic effect of his silhouette in the twilight ruined as he sneezed at a cherry blossom petal he breathed in.

"yurio, wait! don't you even know what's going on?" he could hear her trying to catch up to him, but yuri wanted to be alone.

"my name is yuri, bitch!" he sped up. _fuck this damn suitcase_ , he thought to himself.

"yurio - yuri - wait, you son of a bitch!" she was panting as she caught up to yuri.

 

yuri looked at her sideways. "what?" she kept puffing, gasping out words between breaths "yuuri's - conditions were never - for - you to - go. victor - asked him - what he'd do if - he won and - he said - he'd like you to stay on with - them, with victor's - choreography." she stood there panting, as yuri's eyes widened as realization sunk in.

 

his pride was wounded, and he almost didn't want to go back to victor.

 

but would yuri give up the best ice dancer in the world as his coach for the sake of his pride? no. no, yuri may have been prideful, but he was not an idiot.

 

 _fuck you, yuri_. _fuck you and your fucking kind heart._

 

 


	2. Yuri: alone

Yuri was roaming the town. The rink was where he usually went to cool down when he was pissed, but victor and yuuri were there. Together. Alone. 

 

Pulling his hoodie tighter around him against the cold, Yuri strode on through the town, past the closed shopping centre and endless residential districts. Eventually, he reached the outskirts of town. 

 

Yuri slumped down against a tree trunk. He tucked his knees to his body and wrapped his arms around himself, resting his chin on top. 

 

Yuri missed Russia. 

 

He missed Yakovs tutoring, something he never thought he would admit, even to himself. Victor was a genius on ice, but not so much with words. Yuri was good on the whole at picking up the gist of what victor meant, but it could be annoying sometimes. 

 

Yuri had shared coaches before, but having to put up with a moron on the same level as yuuri was a whole different matter. The way yuuri idolised victor. The way victor looked when yuuri danced. It was sickening. 

 

Shoving his numb fingers into his pockets, Yuri curled up tighter, unwilling to move. Yu-Topia was annoying, the rink was unbearable, the town was empty.

 

St. Petersburg was never still. Victor seemed so refreshed by a change in routine, a break from the dance and rhythm of the city. Yuri hated it; discipline anc routine were what held him together. He couldn't afford to let go. 

 

His breath was freezing in the air. Yuri imagined it changing into him, dancing on love: agape. That was how he had felt dancing: solid, alive but insubstantial. Not enough. Not for victor. Not for the Grand Prix final. 

 

The russian punk sniffed. 

 

 _From the cold_ _. It's fucking freezing._

 

then why are your eyes watering, Yuri? 

 

_Hay fever you little bitch._

 

I don't think it works like that, Yuri. 

 

_Oh fuck off_

 

Now, Yuri. 

 

_I'm sorry, grandpa. I'm trying._

 

Yuri shook off his grandpa's voice, instead reviewing victor's routines for him. That was where he belonged. The ice. Dancing.  And he would dance until he died. 


	3. Cup of china? Acting like that I'd prefer a cup of vodka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri reacts to: victuuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more mentions of yuris training for skate America and the victuuri relationship development, but I'm trying to write as much as I can while I have motivation so I can fix grammar and chronology later

Yuri was bored. He was also alone; victor and yuuri were both away at the cup of china event. 

 

He was currently slumped at one of the low tables in the yu-topia "banquet room", as yuuris mother had so proudly called it. Yuri  _tch_ ed as he casually surveyed the spartan furnishings and sole tv. It was nothing compared to the small luxuries of his life in Russia. 

 

And speaking of TVs, someone was now tampering with the  _one tv_ Yuri had been able to get access to  

 

"change it back," Yuri ordered the man, a middle-aged soccer dad trying to watch football.

"And why should I?" The man sneered down at Yuri. "If you wanted a tv you... could've paid..."

 

the man trailed off witnessing the full force of yuris infamous Russian punk glare. 

"Change. The  _fucking_ channel." Yuri snarled. 

"Yurio, Yurio," yuuris mother tried to placate him. "I'm sorry sir," she bowed to the customer. "My boy's skating and we don't want to miss it." The man pretended to give in with bad grace, but Yuri could see that he was relieved he didn't have to face the Russian punk again.  

 

Yuri  _tch_ ed and turned his gaze back to the tv. "my name is yuri," he muttered.

 

At least minako-senpai wasn't here, like when yuuri had competed in that other competition. Yuri could still hear her the sound of her puking after six beers, a bottle of vodka and god knows how many shots of Mountain Dew, while still trying to sing the Irish national anthem. He shuddered. 

"Representing Japan: katsuki Yuri," the monotone voiceover crackled through the tv speakers. Trying to look as nonchalant as he could, Yuri shifted so he could see the screen more easily, his face shifting into a smirk of anticipation.  Yuuri had bean leading after yesterday's event. He couldn't wait to see him fall apart today. 

 

However, as yuuri progressed, Yuris face fell. And kept falling. Yuuri was dancing better than he ever had in training, combining switched jump elements with flawless a flawless step sequence. 

 

By halfway Yuri was ready to snap his chopsticks in half. By the last quadruple flip, 4 broken pieces of wood lay on the table in front of him. 

 

But the worst was yet to come. 

 

The rush to victor. 

 

The jump. 

 

The fall. 

 

The kiss. 

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. Did victor not care how it would damage his reputation? Or yuuris? So selfish. 

 

Yuri audibly  _blegh_ ed with a shudder before quickly looking over to see yuuri's mother's reaction. She had passed out. 

 

 _Shit_ , _I'm_ _guessing_ _she_ _didn't_ _know_ _he_   _was_ _gay._

"Hey, yuuris dad!" Yuri yelled before looking down to find him passed out next to his wife. 

 

As much as Yuri hated yuuri , he hoped the chubby defenceless boy didn't get kicked out for being gay, like he had. Well, not gay technically, but after his parents had come home early to find him kissing a boy, not a girl, that was the end. Out on the streets, despite his protests _I'm_ _bi_ , _not_ _gay_! _I_ _can_ _still_ _like_ _girls_! It had been all the same to his parents. 

 

At least Yakov had thought he had shown enough promise to offer him a room and lessons for the measly sum Yuri could scrape together from his job. It was almost enough to make Yuri feel bad for stealing yakovs money and using it to run away to victor. 

 

Looking back up at the screen, Yuri saw victor and yuuri still together on the ice. 

 

God, the way they _looked_ at each other. Yuri almost retched. 

 

 _Thanks_ , _victor_. _You've_ _gone_ _and_ _landed_ _us_ _all_ _in_ _shit_ _now_. _Next_ _time_ _ask_ _him_ _out_ _on_ _a_ _date._


End file.
